


Calling You

by RavenAurelieChoiseau



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Anal Sex, Boys Kissing, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hot, Hotel Sex, Hotels, Idiots in Love, Inspired by Music, Kissing, Love, M/M, Masturbation, One Shot, Road Trips, Romantic Fluff, Romanticism, Sex, Sexy, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Swearing, Sweet/Hot, True Love, Uncut Juice, not much dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:13:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23257486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenAurelieChoiseau/pseuds/RavenAurelieChoiseau
Summary: Leaning into one another, Juice bends his head and rests it in the hollow where soft shadows lie. Tig drives on, a little weak in the knees. A lot of chase to his pulse.They’re on a desert road, halfway to nowhere. Not a care in the goddamn world. Tig never loved this deep. Not until he met Juice.This is shamelessly romantic. Forgive me. :)
Relationships: Juice Ortiz & Tig Trager, Juice Ortiz/Tig Trager
Comments: 21
Kudos: 80





	Calling You

**Author's Note:**

> As soon as I heard this song on Friday I saw this play out in my mind. It seemed so Lynch-esque to me. Here is the fruit of that.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C0gJc8L_KlY Ikon, "Calling You" ergo the title.

Tig has loved Juice since forever.  
  
He’s loved him since he first saw him; a shy prospect with brown sugar doe eyes trying to make himself fit into corners so he wouldn't be in the way.  
He’s loved him since he first patched in. Since the time Juice looked him straight in the eyes, a river in spring melt meeting the sea. Juice grinned and Tig had just had a meal but there it was, his stomach dropping to his feet like a boulder falling off a cliff. His belly felt empty. Tig’s heart lurched and a thousand butterflies burst forth within him.  
  
Tig held his hand to that muscle in his chest that had almost forgotten what it meant to skip a beat, what it meant to breathe for more than just survival. Remembered suddenly, almost brutally, what it meant to love.  
  
So when Juice kissed him for the first time- when he'd disintegrated because he’d just watched his daughter burn… Juice clamping his full lips to Tig’s to help imprison the deep strangling sobs that were making his sharp shoulder blades shake with convulsions he couldn’t control…  
Yeah, he fucking _fell in love_ with him then.  
His words were almost unintelligible through the violence- but he had managed to say it.  
“I _love_ you, Juice,” his voice breaking at the word. Juice gathered him tightly against his chest and just whispered “I know… I know. I love you, too, Tiggy.”  
  
Goddamn.  
So when Juice extends his hand, clasping his warmly, Tig takes it. Jesus does he take it and does he lace his fingers with his because moments like these just can’t be bought.  
Juice squeezes. His beaming expression, those glowing caramel-colored cheeks dimpling from smiling too much, they tangle Tig’s tongue.  
  
 _I want to give you the world, Juice. That’s not even half of what you deserve, baby._  
Leaning into one another, Juice bends his head and rests it in the hollow where soft shadows lie. Tig drives on, a little weak in the knees. A lot of chase to his pulse.  
They’re on a desert road, halfway to nowhere. Not a care in the goddamn world.  
_  
  
The small amount of light invading the room from the neon sign outside only serves to accentuate Juice’s dewy skin. There’s a sheen to it, and if more of the yellow, fluorescent glow would plait in through the blinds it would spell -TEL on Juice’s strong back.

The rented bed is sturdy. The ceiling fan above whirrs annoyingly, crookedly spinning on itself.  
Juice and Tig make love at 3 am. The witching hour.  
  
Juice smacks his cherry lips, long wet lashes fluttering.  
“Tig, Jesus… “  
Tig brackets his slim hips, Juice sliding one hand down his taut stomach to the pulsing swell.  
“Like that, baby, like that… “  
  
Christ, Tig thinks, he’s just as perfect in the semi-darkness as he is in daylight. Perhaps more. The shade kisses him in all the right places, muscles tensing and relaxing to a time only their desire is dictating.  
  
Juice leans down, his blistering tongue licking a circle into Tig’s smooth, briny skin, until finally his lips close over the spot.  
He sucks color into the already flushed flesh.  
“Juice,” Tig whimpers. “I love you.”

Tig’s breathing is unsteady, his moans vibrating against Juice’s neck. He alternates nips with savouring Juice’s lips. _  
Like drinking a chocolate milkshake on a hot day._

His splayed hands glide over Juice’s haunches, one kneading into the wet, taut muscle, the other landing firmly on his ass cheek. 

“Don’t stop,” Juice begs from behind his dreamy veil. “Please don’t stop.”  
His movements are languid. Tig is buried so deep inside him he doesn't know where he ends and Juice begins.   
  
Everything is slippery and dripping, clinging, like their bodies that are holding fast, soggy with need.  
Tig bucks up into Juice, twisting his hip, craving more depth.

“Juice,” Tig whispers into the darkness, the longing a strain in his throat. “I want you.”

One of Juice’s hands, damp with perspiration, caresses into Tig’s scalp, looping two fingers into his silky curls.  
Juice nods against his cheek, sinks down until he’s hilted.  
Both men groan, and Juice pulls the foreskin back on his cock so he can spread the pre-come over the head.

“Do that again,” Tig begs when Juice pummels him. His hands draw his lover to him, thighs spreading further to accommodate the girth.

A large bead of sweat rolls down the middle of Juice’s back. Tig’s thrusts in time to Juice’s strokes, cleaving together in a delicious rhythm. Up and down, Juice’s perfect ass rises and falls, grinding into Tig as they both moan helplessly.  
Breathing intensifies, laboured and loud. Hot air blows through their noses as their mouths devour each other.  
  
Juice tugs on his fevered, needy cock.  
“Tig,” the urgency, the starvation, “Fuck me harder. Please. I’m close.”  
  
"Anything for you, baby” whimpers Tig, his hands pulling and scratching at him until Juice bears into him. Tig rolls him over, lies him down gently so he can command from between his legs.  
Sliding his tongue along his wine-colored mouth, Tig disappears back inside his warmth.   
  
“Open for me,” he breathes, and Juice’s dick twitches against their bellies.

They writhe on each other, into each other. Not like it’s the first time, but almost like it’s the last.  
Tig is bottomed out, the sound of skin slapping skin and lamentations filling the heavy air.

“Tig, I’m….fuck...NOW….”

“Fuck yeah, baby, fuck yeah. Come for me!”  
  
Tig lets go when he feels the clench.  
He explodes inside, violently. Yelling out Juice’s name just as his lover’s cock pumps out squirt after squirt of cum, the briny spend coats his fist and drizzles their chests.

Gasping, Tig collapses onto Juice, the sweat and the secretions gluing them together.  
  
_  
  
Tig sleeps soundly beside him, his mouth but a hair’s length from Juice’s. His curly dark hair is a tousled mess. Juice rests his cheek on Tig’s bicep, and with the same hand he just had over his heart, fixes his loose locks. Lightly, enough for him to perceive the warmth emanating from his love’s body, but softly enough not to wake him, he kisses the pulsing hollow at the base of his throat.  
  
A wanting mouth holds in secret words, trapped behind teeth and a little awe.  
I keep thinking I couldn't love you more, Tig Trager, Juice muses, but then I do. Then I do. 

**Author's Note:**

> I loved writing this. These two are quickly becoming another fav pairing of mine.  
> Enjoy. Please feel free to kudo and comment! I'm stuck at home and would love to interact with my readers during these dire times. Stay safe everyone.


End file.
